Neo SpiderMan
by UltimateIceman1
Summary: The birth of Spider-Man with a twist
1. Take A Bite Out of Crime

Take A Bite Out of Crime  
  
"I hate it when Mr. Schmitt does this," Peter Parker muttered to himself, " Just because I'm the only sophomore in the class doesn't mean I can do impossible assignments."  
Peter Parker was the school nerd. He wasn't thrown out for his looks, with the exception of his big glasses he was quite good looking. A thin, non-muscular sophomore with brown hair and pretty green eyes, he was definitely not ugly. The problem at his school was that he was smart. He was a sophomore with the IQ level of a college graduate. He especially excelled in the science area, getting an 'A' in his AP Biology class while the rest of the seniors were struggling to pass.  
His biology teacher, Mr. Schmitt, loved to fail students. He saw it as payback for the failure his life had been. When Peter came and aced the first test of the year, a feat no one had ever accomplished before, he saw it his personal mission to bring him down. Mr. Schmitt would give Peter personal assignments that were borderline impossible, but Peter would always present the completed project on the due date and receive the grade he earned.  
"How is knowing the chemical composition of a spider's web and how to reproduce it ever going to help me in my life? The net doesn't even have anything on it!" Peter cried out in frustration. He had been on the internet for over an hour looking online for some help; so far he had no luck.  
"Peter! The phone's for you!"  
"Alright, I'll be there in a second Aunt May."  
Peter lived with his Aunt May and his Uncle Ben. When his parents died in a plane crash, his dad's older brother and only relative, Ben, took him in. Peter had lived with them for about ten years now. They had become his surrogate parents.  
"Hello?" Peter said to the phone. He had a questioning tone because he barely received a phone call.  
"Peter! It's Harry!" came the enthusiastic response.  
"Oh, hey Harry. How're you?" Peter wasn't nearly as excited as Harry at the moment. He was still down about his biology project.  
"I'm good. Listen, know how you mentioned that you needed a spider for some bio project?"  
"Umm.I guess I mentioned it to you."  
"Well I was talking to one of my dad's scientists, and I mentioned that you needed a spider. Then he said that he had one that you could use."  
Peter lifted his head so quickly he almost got whip-lash, "Really? Are you for real?"  
"Yeah, totally! He said the only problem was that it has been exposed to chemicals and radiation. Nothing's wrong though, they just might be a little edgy."  
"That's totally fine, as long as they're alive. Can you bring it to school tomorrow?"  
"Yeah, no prob."  
"Thanks man, I owe you one."  
"You always do. See ya tomorrow."  
"Later."  
Peter's mood had taken a total U-turn during the course of the conversation. This saved him a lot of time, and possibly money. Harry had come through for him when he didn't even need to.  
Harry Osborn was about Peter's only friend. His dad was the founder of a large chemical manufacturing company called Oscorp. The company had been extremely successful, resulting in extreme wealth for the Osborn family. Even though Harry was rich, he still sought friendship in Peter. Both of them had lost their mothers in tragic accidents, and that helped to form a bond between them.  
Peter walked downstairs to the kitchen to grab a snack. Aunt May was already there cooking dinner, "Don't eat anything Peter, dinner will be ready soon."  
Aunt May was a kind old lady. Her silver hair may have shown her physical age, but inside she was twenty years younger. She was able to take care of herself easily and refused the service of others. Her youthful energy made it hard for her to stay inside the house all day. She enjoyed being out in the hustle and bustle of life.  
"What did Harry want?" she asked Peter.  
"He's helping me with my biology project."  
"Well that's nice of him. Can you set the table for me?"  
The front door slammed, "Oh good," Aunt May said, "Ben's home just in time for dinner."  
A big, grey-haired man walked into the kitchen with a big smile on his face. Peter's Uncle Ben seemed to light up whatever room he entered. Nothing could ever get him down in the dumps. He usually had bad days at work, he was an editor at the Daily Bugle, but that couldn't stop him. No matter how bad his day went, whenever he saw his family he was happy.  
"Hey Peter, how was school today?"  
"It was good except for the stupid project Mr. Schmitt gave me. I swear he has it in for me."  
"That's not true Peter. He just realizes that you need more challenging assignments for you to learn. You're a smart kid; most kids would kill for your intelligence. You need to use your intellect to the fullest or else you're just taking it for granted. Remember, with great power."  
"Comes great responsibility. Yeah, yeah I know," Peter muttered. 'With great power comes great responsibility' was Ben's personal motto. He could compare just about anything to it.  
"How's the Photography class your taking going?" Ben had Peter sign up for Photography so he would have an elective where he could expand his artistic brain instead of his math and science brain.  
"It's going well. The teacher says that I do a good job with putting action into my pictures."  
"Well that's good. After a while you might be able to come work at the Bugle with me. It's not a high paying job, but it's good money for a kid your age."  
Ben and Peter sat down at the table. Aunt May brought the dinner to the table covered in a towel. Ben and Peter knew what was coming. Whenever May had a new meal that she wanted to try out on them, she covered it. The fear showed in the eyes of the lab rats. They questioned what was under the veil.  
Aunt May lifted the towel off the dish. She had a glowing smile on her face, sure to hit the jackpot with this one. "Liverloaf is served, eat up!"  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
School was always a horror for Peter. He was always picked on when he was left in the open. He usually went to his first class as soon as he got to school so that way he could be sheltered from the "popular" groups. He did a pretty good of staying out of their way, but today was not his lucky day.  
"Pitiful Parker! Haven't seen you in a while." came a voice from across the hall.  
Peter's pace sped up. He was afraid to look around in hope that he would be forgotten. "Hey Parker! I was talking to you!" The sound of tennis shoes thudding against the linoleum floor approached Peter. Peter squinted at the oncoming assault. He felt a sharp pain in his butt.  
"Parker, how ya doing? Did you like that football greeting? I figured I should give you one since you're never going to be on a team anyways." A group of kids started snickering.  
"Hi Flash, how are you?"  
Flash Thompson, the bane of Peter's existence. Captain of the Varsity football team, he was a junior out to get Peter. Flash was as dumb as a rock and it bugged him that a sophomore was in more advanced classes than him. So Peter became Flash's "special friend".  
"I'm great, thanks for asking. Guess what I have! A big report due in two days! Isn't it exciting? And guess who I decided is going to do it."  
"Me?"  
"Actually I was going to say Norman, but now that you've volunteered yourself, why not? Thanks man, you're a pal." Flash left with a football slap to Peter's rear.  
Peter limped to his next class. He saw a vending machine and his stomach rumbled. He had skipped breakfast because Aunt May was thinking of having the leftovers of last night's meal for breakfast.  
He approached the machine and took out his wallet. He winced because he bumped one of his sore spots. He opened his wallet and let out a gasp of surprise. All of his money was gone.  
"Dangit, Flash must of done it." Flash was known through out the school as a thief. He had been like that as long as anyone could remember.  
  
Peter walked to class and sat down in his seat. He was glad to be alone. He could just sit there and read his book until the bell rang, enjoying the peace of an empty classroom. He was pulling out his book when something dawned on him. He wasn't alone in the classroom.  
"Peter?" came an angelic voice from the front of the room.  
He looked up and his heart stopped. Standing there was the most beautiful girl in the school. The blonde haired beauty stood underneath a fluorescent light that cast an angelic glow on her. Peter looked into her soft blue eyes and melted on the spot. It was none other than Gwen Stacy.  
"Oh, umm.hi," was Peter's timid response.  
"What're you doing here so early?" she had a sing-song voice that made blue birds jealous.  
"I'm.um.hi"  
"Hehe, you're cute. Well have you seen Mrs. Lewis? I need to ask her a question."  
"She hasn't.um.been in here.yet."  
The bell rang, signaling the start of first period.  
"Oh well, I better not be late to my first class. It was nice talking with you Peter."  
She walked out the door and into the hall. The door closed behind her, leaving Peter there in shock. "Bye" he said to the already long gone Gwen.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
"Here it is."  
Harry pulled a box out of his locker and handed it to Peter. Peter opened it and looked inside. Lying motionless on the base of the box was a spider as big as Peter's hand.  
"It looks like its dead," Peter commented.  
"No, the scientist said that it was just tired from some of the chemicals it had been subjected to. Don't worry, it just makes it easier to examine it or whatever you need to do."  
Peter picked it up to get a closer look. "I'm pretty sure that it's dead. It's not responding to anything. It's just sitting there OH @%$#!!"  
Peter screamed out in pain. He threw the spider to the ground. "Peter! What happened?!?"  
"The stupid thing just bit me!" The spider was sliding on the linoleum floor into the busy hall. SQUASH came the sickening sound of someone stepping on the spider. "Eww, what the heck is this?"  
"Oh great. Of all the people to step on that spider it had to be her." Harry tried to hide from the onslaught that he knew was coming.  
Felicia Hardy looked down at her shoes. Spider innards were smeared all over them. She looked around the hall to see where the spider could have come from. She saw Peter grasping his hand yelling in pain and Harry trying to calm him down. She walked over concerned about Peter. "What's wrong Peter?"  
"Oh nothing honey, he'll be fine." Harry replied to Felicia.  
"Don't 'Oh nothing honey' me, Harry Osborn. What happened!?"  
Peter managed to get a hold of himself long enough to tell Felicia, "Harry's spider bit me."  
"That was your spider!?! I stepped on that thing. Do you see my shoes? They're covered in spider guts! Do you know how much these shoes cost?? I should dump you right now but."  
"Oh my gosh, Peter just fainted!!"  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 


	2. Track & Field

Track & Field  
  
"Parker's wide open. The quarterback throws a long bomb.Parker catches it and runs for the touchdown!!! It's amazing! This kid hasn't played on the team the whole season, now all of a sudden he shows up in one game and shows everyone up! It's like the ball is stuck to his hand!" The announcer couldn't hold back. His voice rang throughout the whole stadium as he expressed his excitement about the game's results.  
Peter stood in the end zone looking at the crowd. Green and gold audience members were going crazy. His heart was pumping faster than a squirrel on caffeine. He had just scored the game winning touchdown against his rival high school. How did that happen? It seemed like yesterday he was sitting in AP Biology scoring perfect 100's on tests. How did Peter go from being the school geek to the school hero?  
A stampede of burly football players came running at Peter. He turned to see that his whole team came out to celebrate except for one player. Standing in the middle of the field was a big junior hanging his head. He had his head bowed in shame at what had just happened. The scene would have been perfectly normal if he was on the other team, but he wasn't. His team had just won the biggest game of the year, and he was sulking about it.  
Peter saw this player and smirked. His joy and excitement had jumped to a new level. He had just put Flash Thompson to shame and it felt good. This was the greatest moment in his life, and nothing could stop it now. He could see Gwen Stacy running up to him from the sidelines.  
"Peter! That was amazing!" She wrapped her arms around his neck. She looked him in the eyes and entranced him. He leaned forward and pressed his lips.  
"Peter, Peter. Peter, can you hear me?"  
Peter slowly opened his eyes. A blurry scene of colors and lights was displayed before him. Where was he? What happened to Gwen? Why was this person calling his name over and over again? His head was ringing.  
"I think he's opening his eyes," came a familiar voice.  
Peter's head was throbbing in pain. He must have gotten hit late in the game and that's why he felt so dizzy. The room above him was twirling around. He lifted his hand to stop it, but that only made it spin faster and a tsunami of pain was released from his hand. Peter screamed out in pain, "ARGGGG!!" Tears started to leak from his eyes as he released the intensity of pain he was in.  
"Peter, honey, it's your Aunt May. Calm down. It's alright, you're in a hospital. Everything's going to be fine." Aunt May's voice set a soothing trance over Peter. The pain went down a little, just enough for him to bear.  
Peter was still confused about where he was and how he got there. "What happened to the football game?"  
Aunt May was concerned, "What football game honey?"  
"The one I just won. What happened to everyone?"  
"Peter, sweetie, you haven't played a game of football in your life. I don't even think you've touched a football since you were six."  
What was going on? Peter was dazed by all the information. "Never touched a football?" thought Peter, "How can that be? I scored the winning touchdown in the game, yet she says I don't even play." Peter sat up and looked around. He was in a white room with machines all over the place. There was a wire attached to his chest leading to a machine next to him. A slight "beep beep" came from the apparatus. He was lying on a bed, and next to it was Aunt May. She had a concerned look on her face. "Peter," she said with a tone of worry, "What's the last thing you remember?" Peter looked at her in shock, "What's the last thing I remember? My great performance of course!! Did you see my catch? He threw it like thirty yards to me for a touchdown. It was the most amazing thing I've ever done!" If Aunt May was worried before, it was nothing compared to what she was feeling now. "What are you talking about Peter?? I already told you that you haven't played football since you were seven years old!" Peter hesitated for a moment. It then hit him what happened, "Oh yeah, I forgot. I didn't tell you I was playing football because I didn't want you to worry. All those days I said I was staying after school last week was because I was practicing for the big game." Aunt May was furious, "Peter! You are in a hospital because you got bit by a spider Harry gave you!! You don't play football and you didn't score the winning touchdown!" Her voice resonated in the empty room. The door creaked open. A head of red hair peeked around the door. "Umm." the boy hesitated, "Is this a bad time?" Aunt May immediately calmed down with the arrival of the visitor. "Oh no Harry, come in." "Harry! Am I glad to see you. Tell Aunt May that I've been playing football behind her back." Harry looked at Peter queerly. "What the heck are you talking about?" Peter's jaw hit the ground. Why was his own friend turning against him? The door opened again as a doctor entered. He was looking at a clip board in his hand. "Peter Parker, right? Okay, can you explain to me what happened?" Peter was about to launch into his football story again when May interrupted, "Maybe Harry can, I don't think Peter is well enough to say much, and Harry was there anyways." The doctor turned to Harry, "Well son, what happened?" "Well, he got bit by a spider a couple of days ago," Harry said short and sweet. "Where?" "At school." "What kind of spider?" The doctor said with interest. "How would I know? It was as big as my hand though." "How does a spider that big get into a public high school?" The doctor's curiosity was increasing with every question. "I brought it. Peter needed a spider for a science project, so I asked a scientist that work's for my dad's company, Oscorp. He had some spiders that he wasn't using anymore so he allowed me to take one." Harry somehow forgot to mention the fact that it had been exposed to radiation. "Interesting," the doctor said, "Well I bet you're anxious to get out of here Peter. I think you'll be able to go home tomorrow, but you'll have to rest for a while. I have to warn you though; you might have a few problems. Delusions, headaches, hallucinations and other head injuries might occur. I'll give you a prescription for some pain killers in case you need them. Any questions? " Only one question came to Peter's mind, "Will I be able to play football soon?"  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Peter expected that he would be able to get home and just rest. With an injured hand and a dizzy head there's not much you can do but relax. He imagined sitting on the couch watching National Geographic or reading his Chemistry book. Apparently this was one of the delusions his doctor was talking about.  
"Peter! Where are you? It's time to go for a jog!" yelled his Aunt May.  
Peter cringed. His Aunt May was an active lady for her age. She believed that if you were idle for more than ten minutes then you just wasted the entire day. She was constantly jogging, cooking, or crafting in an attempt to keep herself busy. As a result of all of this, May led a happy life with hardly any injuries or illnesses. "It should work for Peter too," she thought to herself the day they got home.  
"May, we've been at this for three days straight. Can't I just rest for one day?" Peter whined.  
"Nope Peter, no resting. We aren't stopping until you go back to school, and since you seem to be incapable of going back, we're going to do it."  
May dragged Peter outside the house and pushed him along. Peter was reluctant at first, he dragged his feet for a while, but eventually he started jogging. After about a mile they stopped for a rest. Peter was panting, but he was still in pretty good shape.  
"Wow Peter, you've really improved a lot since we started. The other day you couldn't even make half a mile without almost collapsing on the sidewalk. Now you can run a mile breathing heavily."  
"Yeah, I guess you've put me through a lot of training."  
"Well hurry up and catch your breath because we're going to start for home again."  
"Already? Can't we just sit around and enjoy the surroundings?" Peter pleaded.  
"Nope. If we rest too long then the run won't do us any good." May said as she started to run back.  
Peter ran after her and caught up after a block. May looked at him, smiled, then started to speed up. Frustrated, Peter picked up his pace and got even with her. May looked surprised that he was running this fast. She went into a sprint to try and stay ahead, but Peter just caught up.  
Peter caught on to what his aunt was trying to do and put a big grin on his face. He went into a full on sprint and flew past May. He kept up the pace until he reached home. He looked back expecting to see May right behind him, but she wasn't. It took her another minute to reach the house.  
"Wow Peter, I didn't realize you could run that fast." She said between breaths.  
"Neither did I. I'm not even dizzy."  
"Well that's good. How does your hand feel?" She said as she came over to inspect it.  
"It's fine. It hasn't hurt all day."  
"That's good. I think you will be able to go back to school tomorrow."  
"Yes," Peter said to himself, "No more running."  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
"Alright class, today is our 'In-Class Track and Field Meet'" shouted Mr. Cuth, the gym teacher.  
Peter's face turned pale. He turned to Harry, who was standing right next to him, and said, "What the heck is he talking about?"  
"Well the day you got bit was the day we started our Track and Field unit. We've been working on different events, and today is the big competition. I think you're signed up for running long jump and discus." Harry explained to him.  
Peter sighed, "At least I don't have to do too much running. That's all my Aunt May."  
"Parker! Quit talking and come over here. You're first for the long jump." Mr. Cuth yelled.  
"Great," Peter muttered to himself, "now I get to make a fool of myself."  
Peter approached the runway. He looked down the track at the sand pit at the end. Peter took a deep breath. The other sophomores in the class chuckled as they awaited the oncoming failure.  
Peter sprinted towards the pit. His surroundings blurred past him as he picked up speed. He reached the line and launched himself into the air.  
Peter flew threw the air. It was the greatest feeling as he hung in the air for an eternity. Peter felt like a bird floating over the ground. It disappointed him that he had to land after the thrill.  
He stuck the landing and stood up. He walked out of the pit then stopped. There was absolutely no noise. He turned around and saw the class about twenty feet behind him. Every one of the students and the teacher had their mouths open.  
"Holy Cow Parker!" Mr. Cuth shouted in disbelief, "That was one heck of a jump. You jumped twenty-five feet out and about three or four high. Ever think of joining the track team?"  
"No, not really. I didn't even know I could do that." Peter explained.  
"Well I'd seriously consider it if I were you. What other events are you signed up for?" Mr. Cuth looked at his clipboard. "Discus? Well let's see how you are at that."  
Mr. Cuth took Peter to the discuss area. Peter stood in the throwing circle while Mr. Cuth got the discuses. Peter could see the class start to approach him as they wondered what else he could do. He felt the pressure as he realized this could change his reputation as the school geek.  
Mr. Cuth showed him how to hold the discus then gave it to Peter. Peter mimicked the grip that Mr. Cuth had demonstrated. He stood in the center of the circle and prepared for the throw. He concentrated on not losing grip on the discus as he started to spin.  
One.two..three times around he spun. On his fourth he prepared for the release. He planted his right foot and straightened his arm. His fingers let the discus go.but his palm didn't.  
Peter came crashing down to the ground as the weight of the discus brought his arm down. He lied on the ground and heard the eruption of laughs from his class mates. He lifted his throwing hand and outstretched all five fingers. The discus was stuck to the palm of his hand.  
"What the." Peter groaned. He was getting up to show his teacher but it fell to the ground. He looked at all kids pointing and laughing. Feeling horrible, he ran to the locker room with all the ridicule behind him.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
The bell rang for school to get out. Peter grabbed his backpack and left. He never liked staying after school unless it was for academic purposes. Staying after just meant more time to be around kids he didn't like.  
As Peter walked home he thought about his class assignments. The special project Mr. Schmitt had assigned him popped up. Peter had forgotten about it, and he wasn't too happy to remember it.  
As he was thinking about it, the solution popped into his head. It was so simple, so easy to figure out, why hadn't he thought of it before? It was a simple formula that he could concoct in his basement. He had all the chemicals and supplies he needed. One part this, two parts that.  
Peter crossed the street ignoring his surroundings. He had a weird feeling in the back of his neck, but he was concentrating on the formula too much to care. He got about half-way when his foot hit a pothole. He went sprawling forward and face planted it.  
The day just wasn't going well for Peter. His backpack broke open and his books were all over the road. He stood up and collected the books. He only had a few things left to pick up when he heard a honking sound. The funny feeling in his neck came back.  
Peter looked up to see a car speeding towards him with no sign of slowing down.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 


	3. Heavy Hitters

Heavy Hitters  
  
A baby blue 1969 Camaro with white racing stripes is one of the most beautiful cars on the road. The engine may be loud, but it has a kind of welcoming melody to it. The roar of 7500 revolutions per minute just puts you in a loving trance of a machine that has such beauty. The frame of the care is sleek and smooth, a symbol of a great steel worker. A '69 Camaro is gorgeous no matter what angle you look at it; well, maybe there is one bad angle. Unfortunately Peter Parker happened to be staring directly at the car from that one angle.  
That very Camaro was bearing down on the helpless Peter. The driver couldn't see Peter because he was crouching down picking up his backpack and books, which were lying on the street. When he looked up at the Camaro his body froze in terror, like a deer looking into headlights. The muscle car was approaching him and showing no sign of stopping.  
"Jump!" said a voice in the back of Peter's head.  
Confused, Peter did the only thing he could think of. His legs literally sprung into action as he leaped into the air. The distance between Peter and the ground increased as he soared into the sky.  
"I can fly!" Peter shouted as he gained air. It explained why he jumped so far during P.E. that morning. Peter stretched his arms upward as he attempted to get even higher, but then he realized something; he was falling back to the ground, rapidly as he soon found out.  
The Camaro had screeched to a stop at the same spot that Peter had been only moments before. Now instead of it crashing into Peter, Peter was about to crash into it. Peter came speeding down and landed with a giant "CRUNCH" onto the hood of the gorgeous Camaro. The back end of the car lifted up for a few seconds, then came crashing down to the pavement.  
The voice in the back of his head returned, "Run!" and he did. His legs carried him the rest of the way to his house. He bolted up the stairs to his room and quickly slammed the door.  
"What the heck just happened to me!?" Peter yelled at himself. "I can jump high and far, I run for four blocks and I'm not even tired, and the stupid discus just sticks to my hands when I'm trying to throw it. What's happening to me?"  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Peter soon found out that he stuck to a lot of things. He started to think of himself as a human magnet. He would be writing a paper or doing some homework and just daze off. Soon he would find that his pen and paper were stuck to his hands. He would hit his alarm clock, step on a sock, or brush by a book and find them all attached to him.  
Peter tried to think what was causing this strange phenomenon. A bio- magnetic energy that his body might be producing? Static electricity? Magnetic personality?  
Peter's adhesiveness made a bad situation worse one day. It was one of those bad days at school. His problem with things sticking to him had been going on for a couple of days, and it wasn't stopping, Mr. Schmitt wanted him to turn in the spider web project soon, but Peter had forgotten the formula because of the shock of the car driving at him, and Peter was looking forward to a nice rest at home. Unfortunately this didn't happen.  
"Hey Parker!" came a cocky voice behind him.  
"Run," came the voice in the back of his head. Every time Peter had heard the voice before he took its advice, but because of his bad day, Peter didn't feel like running. The ensuing conflict couldn't ruin his day anymore, could it?  
Peter turned to see none other than Flash Thompson. He was wearing his green and gold letterman's jacket that he had received for playing football; he filled the jacket pretty well, it was almost a muscle shirt for him. Behind him was a group of friends that liked to follow him around. A lot of them were mindless jocks that just needed a leader to tell them who to pick on.  
"Parker!" yelled Flash as he approached Peter. "Parker, my favorite sophomore. Nice to see you on this fine day."  
Peter could spot Flash's false sympathy from a mile away, "What do you want Flash?" Peter asked in a weary tone.  
"Well I wasn't going to ask for anything," Flash commented with a sly smile, "but as long as you're offering I could use a couple of bucks."  
Peter knew that was coming. He hesitated as he considered his answer. "Sorry.but I don't have my wallet today."  
Flash's sympathy disappeared immediately, "I heard you pause there. That means you're lying!" Flash grabbed Peter and slammed him against a near by wall. "I need some money, and you're going to give it to me!"  
Peter was scared to death, why hadn't he listened to the voice? "Flash, I can't give you any money. I seriously don't have any money!"  
Peter's statement just enraged Flash more. "You don't want to mess with me Parker. Would you like me to demonstrate the power and strength that I have?" With those words he lifted Peter off the ground. His back slid up the wall and his feet were flailing for something to stand on. "Now get ready for a crash landing."  
Peter squinted as Flash let go of him-but nothing happened. Peter was sticking to the wall, dangling a foot or two above the ground.  
"What the heck is this?" Flash asked. "Is this a joke?"  
Flash and his friends started poking and prodding Peter to see why he was up there. Peter knew only bad could come from this.  
"HAHAHA" Flash burst out laughing, "He's sticking to the wall like a piece of duct tape or something!"  
"And you'll need to tape your face together if you don't duck!" came a voice from behind Flash.  
Flash turned around to see what it was; his mistake. The only thing he saw was a hand flying towards his face, striking his head to the side. He yelled out in pain as the person's nails scraped his skin as the hand slid off his cheek. Four bloody lines streaked the side of his face.  
Felicia Hardy was crouched in a fighting pose; her eyes were challenging Flash to do something to her.  
"What the heck was that? You act like you're a freaking cat or something!" Flash spat at her.  
"Worse than that, I'm a black cat. You cross my or anyone of my friend's path you better be prepared for bad luck." She hissed back.  
"Flash, let's split before she does something crazy," one of Flash's buddies said.  
Flash slowly backed up, staring at Felicia the whole time. He opened his mouth to say something, but choked it back and just growled. He gave Felicia a killer glare, which she returned with just as much intensity.  
KERPLUMP!  
Peter fell to the ground, and he amazingly landed with ease on all fours. Felicia looked at Peter's peculiar pose. He was crouching on the ground, but he was doing it with all of his limbs. The closest thing that Felicia could think that he looked like was a cheetah or a spider ready to attack.  
"Do you enjoy being in that pose?" Felicia asked with a sound of curiosity mixed with sarcasm.  
Peter snapped out of the deep trance he had fallen into. He lost the concentration he had on keeping the pose and fell on his face. He pulled himself up and looked at Felicia, "Thanks for getting me out of that.um.sticky situation."  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
As you already know, Peter is an intelligent young man. It didn't take him that long to realize that something was happening to him. Running at speeds faster than he has ever in his life, jumping farther than most track stars, and sticking to things at random times were bound to be recognized by Peter sooner or later. And being the scientific man that he is, he decided to run some tests on these abilities. Peter was sitting in his room, contemplating what experiments he should run to help him figure out the mysteries of these 'powers' he had acquired.  
"Well, judging from the incident with Flash and his goons, my adhesiveness can support my body weight. Now, I'm hypothesizing that if I place my hand on the wall, then I should be able to stick to it."  
As Peter said this he placed his hand on the wall. He let it rest there for a second, and then pulled it away with ease. "That's strange. Why wouldn't it stick now? Especially when I want it to. What did I do the other times that I'm not doing now?"  
Peter immersed himself in thought as he remembered past events. Peter always went into a deep trance when he really wanted to analyze something. Nothing could disturb him; someone walking in on him might mistake him for dead. The only sign of life that he showed was his fingers drumming on the desk. It was a subconscious habit that happened whenever he concentrated on something else.  
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK  
There was a knock at Peter's door, but Peter didn't care. He was slowly cracking the riddle of the phenomenon. The door creaked open and Uncle Ben peeked in. "Peter," he said with no reply. "Peter, Peeeter, PETER!!" Ben was tired of kindly trying to get Peter's attention. He was familiar with this disconnection from the earth.  
Peter came just enough out of the trance to pay attention to what Uncle Ben was saying. He knew that Uncle Ben was there, but he was still processing all of the information in the back of his head.  
"Peter, your Aunt May and I are going out for dinner. Just whip a little something up for yourself if you get hungry. Any specific reason why you're picking up that pencil and putting it down over and over again?" and with that he left.  
Peter looked down at his hand. A pencil that was on his desk had attached itself to his fingers and was now being drummed on the desk. This triggered an idea.  
"Of course, it's a subconscious action. I can concentrate on doing it as much as I want, but it won't happen. I just have to do it."  
Peter stuck his hand on a report that was lying on his desk, and then lifted his hand in the air. Instantly the term paper turned into fly paper, refusing to remove from his hand. And as easily as he had stuck it to his hand, it slipped off when Peter wanted to.  
"Well, the next logical step would be to see how strong the adhesiveness is." Peter looked around the room for what would really test it. He came up with a perfect idea.  
He placed both hands on the wall then tested to make sure they were attached to it. He hesitated for a second. This could hurt if it went wrong. He lifted his right leg and placed his foot on the wall. Next he did the same thing with his left leg.  
Peter couldn't believe it-he was sticking to the wall! There was no explanation for what was happening. People just don't stick to walls. The worry left Peter's mind as a new idea took its place.  
"WHOO HOO!!!" Peter yelled. He was standing on the chimney of his house, looking over the neighborhood. He easily jumped from roof to roof, doing aerial tricks every once in a while. Peter was having the biggest thrill of his life.  
Peter made his way to the school. He bounded on to the roof and sat on an edge. There was a slight breeze as the sun was going down. Peter could imagine Gwen sitting next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder, watching the beautiful colors in the sky.  
After being in his fantasy world for a few minutes, Peter snapped back to reality. "Well that was a pretty good test. Now, what I really need is something to test these abilities to the max."  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
"Please state your weight class and the name that you will be using for the competition." said the nasal voice of the lady behind the table.  
Peter had no idea what possessed him to come here. He usually logically thought out ideas, considered the pros and the cons, and then made a rational decision. This was totally on impulse, and Peter was beginning to regret it.  
"Umm.lightweight." Peter told the lady.  
"And."  
Peter was so nervous that he was drawing blanks, "And what?"  
"Your name." was the annoyed response.  
"Oh.that, right," Peter stammered. Peter replied with a description that he had heard a lot before, "Prodigy."  
"No, too educational. What else?"  
"Umm." Peter remembered jumping from roof to roof, "Ricochet?"  
"That's good..wait, it's already been taken. Another?"  
Peter thought of a name. He thought back at something that could be of some inspiration for a name. The memory of Harry's spider came back.  
"Spider-Man," Peter told the lady.  
"Interesting choice, but no one has it. I think we have a costume that you can use too. Go to the costume room, down the hall, third door on the right. Hand the man in there this slip of paper, he'll know what to do."  
Peter walked to the costume room, trembling the whole way. He wasn't a fighter, he never was. Flash always picked on him, and did it with great ease. So why in the world did he sign up for a wrestling tournament??  
Peter entered the dressing room and handed the paper to a thin, bald man that was measuring another wrestler. The man scanned the paper then went into another room. He immerged a moment later with a cover bag and handed it to Peter. "Go through that door, take the first right, and you'll find a bunch of stalls to change and a locker to put your stuff in."  
  
Peter walked through the door, into the hall, and then into a dressing stall. He unzipped the bag and pulled out the spandex uniform that was inside. There were three pieces. The first one that he looked over was the mask. It was red with black webbing sewn into it. There were two big white eyes with a black border that showed Peter's reflection. He slipped the mask on and realized the eyes were one-way mirrors, he could see out but no one could see in.  
Next he pulled out the upper half of the uniform. It was similar to the mask; it was red with webbing sewn into it, gloves attached to the sleeves, and a spider in the middle of the chest. There was blue on the under part of the arm that continued into the side of his chest and stomach. He took of his shirt and put on the costume.  
The last part was the pants. They were blue with red boots attached at the bottom. He slipped those on and looked at himself in the mirror. "I look like something out of a comic book," he commented when he saw his reflection. Then something caught his eye.  
"Dang, I've got a nice body. This spandex really accentuates muscles." He flexed his muscles in different poses, admiring himself. "Maybe I should show Gwen this. She won't be able to resist me."  
His admiration was interrupted by an announcement over the P.A. "Will 'Spider-Man' please report to the preparation area, you're on in five minutes," came the grizzled voice.  
After seeing his reflection, Peter had gained a much needed confidence boost. He walked towards the shouts of the crowd, ready to face the challenge that awaited him.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
"Ladies and gentlemen, get ready for a wild match as these quick and agile lightweights face off in a battle for five hundred dollars!! In this corner, we have Amazing, the Ultimate SPIDER-MAN!!"  
The crowd showed some enthusiasm as Peter was introduced. As the crowd cheered and as Peter looked at his opponent, reality set in. Peter was about to go against an experienced wrestler and probably get his butt whooped. "What the heck was I thinking? I'm probably going to die and Aunt May and Uncle Ben won't even know," Peter muttered to himself nervously.  
"And in the opposite corner, we have the Dangerous, the Mysterious, PROWLER!!"  
Peter looked at his opponent and nearly wet his pants. Staring straight back at him was a purple mask with two black spots with white slits where the eyes would be. His purple gloves gave the appearance that he had claws. He had a green shirt with a white insignia of a skull and some green pants. The Prowler looked ready to kill, and Peter did not want to be his prey.  
The bell rang and Prowler immediately sprang into the air, flying towards Peter. Peter dove to the side, barely avoiding Prowler as he hit the ground, but Prowler didn't miss a beat. He landed and instantly shifted his weight to tackle Peter. Peter tried to break free of the grip, but he failed.  
Prowler lifted Peter above his head and threw him at the ropes. Peter somersaulted through the airs and landed on the ropes with perfect balance. "HA! Didn't hurt!" Peter yelled at Prowler.  
"Now ask him if his husband wrestles," came the voice.  
Prowler ran towards Peter, but Peter just jumped over him. "Hey Prowler, does your husband wrestle too?"  
This infuriated Prowler, and he started to go crazy. "Hey kid, why don't you shut up and stand still? I'll make it a lot less painful."  
Peter was tired of playing defense, so he ran at Prowler. When he had closed the distance between them he lashed out his leg and kicked Prowler on the side of his head. Prowler spun once and fell on the ground. Peter picked him up and slammed him on the ground.  
The official got into the ring and slid next to Prowler. He counted to ten, but Prowler hadn't moved at all. "HE'S DOWN! SPIDER-MAN IS THE WINNER!!"  
The crowd went wild. Peter scanned the crowd and looked at all the people cheering for him. No one had ever given him such a reaction for something he did, and he had definitely never received praise for winning a fight. This had to be the greatest moment in his life.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
"Three-hundred, four-hundred, five-hundred. It's all there," the manager said as he handed Peter the money. "You were pretty good out there. Would you be interested in being a regular? You could earn more money."  
Peter was hesitant, but then he thought of what he could do with a load of cash. "Sure, why not?"  
"Great," the manager replied, "We have a couple of extra suits like that one. Go to the dressing room and give Lee, the costumer, this slip and say you're a regular."  
Peter took the slip and headed for the dressing room. He gave the slip to the man who was there before. Lee went into the back room to grab something. Peter scanned the room while he was waiting. He was so nervous the first time that he didn't notice all the cool things that were in the room. Bright costumes were strewn all over the place, giving the room a more vibrant look. The tables had tape measurers, needles, thread, and drawing pads on them. Pictures and award hung on the wall commending Mr. Lee of his creative designs.  
Mr. Lee returned with an armful of cover slips. "Here are your extra costumes. They are all about the same. If you ever need repair just bring them in."  
Peter took the costumes, "Thanks," he told Lee. Mr. Lee turned to the table and started working on a drawing. Peter left and went to a locker that the manager had assigned him. He hung up the costumes and realized he still had his on.  
Peter was heading for the dressing room when he heard a crash behind him. He turned around and saw a man sprinting towards him. Afraid of a collision, Peter stepped to the side and let him pass. A second later the manager burst out of his office.  
"Robbery! Somebody stop that guy! He just stole my money!" he came out yelling. When he saw that Peter had let the guy pass, his anger doubled. "Kid, why didn't you stop the freaking guy?? He just got away with my money."  
Peter was mad that he was being blamed for this, "I'm a wrestler, not a security guard. Get your own guy to stop him. Anyways, it's not like it effects me."  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Peter walked home. He relived the match in his head. He laughed at Prowler and how stupid he was to try and beat the Amazing Spider-Man. Of course, the fact that he was about to pee his pants at the beginning totally slipped his mind.  
Peter entered his house and paused. There was an eerie silence, like something was out of place. The light on the answering machine was blinking. He walked over and pushed the play button.  
"Hello, this is Officer Phelps from the New York Police Department. I'm looking for someone from the Parker residence. We have a patient at the Waterside Hospital that has been identified as a Parker, and the patient is about to die. If you can, try and make it here as soon as you can." 


	4. Death

Death  
  
The dark heavens poured their souls out on the city. Black clouds blocked out the moon, shrouding the night in a dark shadow. Rain water engulfed the roads with a thick layer of water on top of the pavement. No one dared to come out in such treacherous conditions. The streets showed no sign of life except for one silhouette running through the streets.  
The mysterious figure ran through the city and didn't stop until he reached his destination. He halted in front of a giant building, about seven stories high. Light poured out of the windows providing a beacon for the lost. The neon blue sign on the side of the building displayed "Waterside Hospital".  
Peter burst through the entrance doors and slid on the linoleum floor. His anxious heart pounded like a bass drum. He had just received a message from the New York Police Department telling him that he they had a patient identified as a Parker. The fear of his Uncle or Aunt scared him enough, but the end of the message scared him even more. Whoever the patient was, they were about to die.  
Peter sprinted to the front desk. His heavy breathing echoed through the empty room, only he and the administrator behind the desk were there. He caught his breath than explained his situation to her. She typed something into her computer then turned to Peter. "Room 149," was all she could say before Peter dashed away.  
Peter ran through the hall, his sneakers were squeaking all over the clean floor. His footsteps echoed through the empty hall. The hospital was unusually quiet, bringing more of an eerie silence than a calming peace. Crazy thoughts entered his head as he ran. Fear flooded his body and the voice only amplified it. "Prepare for the worst."  
Peter followed the signs towards the hall the room was in. He turned a corner and saw Uncle Ben sitting in a chair. His spirits were lifted to the point that he almost cried. Seeing his uncle could brighten any moment, especially seeing his uncle in good health. He expected to see the caring grin that greeted him so often, but Uncle Ben didn't even acknowledge Peter. Ben's eyes were stuck on the door in front of him, a door with the number 149 on it.  
Peter walked to the door and cracked it open. The room was silent, no machines were on. No one was in the room except for a body laying on the bed. Peter looked at a frail hand that was sticking out of the sheets. It was cold, gray, lifeless. When Peter looked at the corpse's face, a lump came into his throat. It was Aunt May.  
"NOOO!!" Peter burst out of the room and back into the hall. Even though he had run more in the last half an hour than he had ever in his life, his legs managed to carry him at the amazing speed that he had recently developed. He wanted to get away from the nightmare he saw.  
His body started to wear down as the fierce weather beat down on him. The wind howled, the clouds wept, and the thunder moaned. It seemed that the whole world was joining Peter in his sorrow.  
Peter was approaching the downtown area where tall buildings loomed over the normally crowded streets. The fearsome storm had driven the inhabitants inside because they all knew that only a fool would challenge the elements tonight. That didn't stop Peter.  
He eyes searched for the perfect spot. It didn't take long before he found the perfect place. Peter jumped onto the side of the building and climbed to the top. It took him a while to reach because the building was about ten stories, which was perfect. Peter scanned the area around him; it was such a different view from the earth bound one he was used to. But the view didn't matter right now; all Peter was going to be looking at in a few minutes was the ground speeding towards him.  
Peter stood on the edge of the roof. He looked down and saw the street far below him. He straightened his body, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Just like diving off the diving board was the thought that came into his mind. He tipped his body forward and waited for the free fall.but it never came. Something was holding him back.  
Peter opened his eyes and looked around. Someone was holding on to him. He turned around and saw one of the most astounding sites he could even imagine. Holding onto his shirt was an angel with platinum blonde hair. She wore a black mask around her beautiful green eyes, and Peter was grateful that the mask didn't cover her whole face, because beauty seemed to radiate from her entire body. She was wearing a black spandex outfit that clung to her shapely body, and Peter just wished he could be that outfit for just one second. Models and actresses would kill to have her figure. Peter thought of what to say, but as with most teenage boys when they met teenage girls, had his proverbial foot in his mouth.  
"Hey cutie, you don't want to do that," came a sing-song voice from her luscious lips.  
Peter just stood and babbled. This had to be the most beautiful girl on the planet, and she just called him a cutie. Girls in chess club wouldn't even look at him let alone the hotties in his school. Peter's thoughts were taken away from the life-changing tragedy that had happened not ten minutes ago and were focused on this goddess that stood before him.  
The girl waited a minute for Peter to talk, but when she realized that he was speechless she giggled and said, "Well I guess I'll be seeing you around. See ya Peter." She twirled around gracefully, ran quickly but elegantly, and soared through the air onto the next building. Her stylish moves were consistent as she disappeared from Peter's view.  
Peter just sat in awe, and when her words hit him he was shocked even more. Somehow that girl knew his name. He couldn't think of anything to say, which was fine because the voice was doing it for him. "Whoa baby! Can you say HOT?!? Try and jump again, maybe she'll come back."  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
Peter trudged into his house. The storm had started to calm, but it was still wreaking havoc on the city. Peter was soaked to the bone when he entered the house. If someone had seen Peter like this, they would have thought that he had gone swimming with his clothes on. It took him about five minutes to get his shirt off. After his shirt was off he just walked around the house, his dismay over the loss of Aunt May and his amazement over the mystery girl pushed the worries of getting the carpet wet out of his mind.  
When Peter reached the family room he found Ben sitting on the sofa. The TV was glowing, casting a mysterious shadow over Ben. Peter flicked on the light and sat next to his uncle. "They're showing a clip about May on the news in a second," Ben muttered.  
As he finished his sentence the news caster came on. "A depressing story tonight as the murder of May Parker, a local resident, occurred tonight," came a voice from the TV. "Police say that while May was out exercising she was shot in the chest by an unnamed man. Police believe that the time and place of the murder coincide with an earlier robbery at a local wrestling federation. Here's a clip of the robbery."  
The clip rolled and Peter's heart sank. The TV showed a black-and- white image of a man in a masked costume in a locker room. Suddenly another man came onto the screen and collided with the costumed wrestler. The wrestler stood up and let the man go by.  
"The manager of the wrestling federation has confirmed the identity of this masked wrestler as Spider-Man. The manager believes that if Spider- Man had stopped the robber than the both crimes and perhaps future ones could have been prevented. Following these commercials we'll have a segment on how to remove plak from cat teeth."  
Ben turned off the TV and turned his head to Peter. "Did you watch that Peter? Do you remember what I always tell you? With great power comes great responsibility. This Spider-Man character could have stopped that criminal and easily taken him in to the cops. He had more power than most people do in a situation like that. But did he do what he should have? No! He should be jailed just because he didn't do what he should have."  
Peter was traumatized. His aunt, the woman who had been a mother to him most his life, was dead because of him. Why did he let the guy go? He knew that something was wrong; he could have at least delayed him until he found out what it was. Now the world would hate Spider-Man, and even if they didn't, Uncle Ben would.  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
The sun beamed down on the grim crowd. The sky was an ocean of blue, not a cloud to be seen. Birds were singing, flowers blossomed, and the grass couldn't have been greener. Peter thought that it was unfair to have a funeral on such a beautiful day. Funerals were supposed to be grim, not cheery. Uncle Ben made a good point though, it was the way Aunt May would have had it.  
Peter watched as people paid their respects. Most of the people he knew, but when this peculiar old guy approached the coffin he felt uncomfortable. The man was practically drooling when he looked at May, and he stayed there longer than anyone else had. Peter asked Ben about him.  
"Oh, that's Adrian Toomes, he's the mortician. A lot of people call him the Vulture, they believe that he's a necrophiliac. It's weird, I know, but he's the best around."  
They funeral continued for about an hour. Ben gave a beautiful eulogy and old friends of May stood and told of the wonderful woman that she was. Most of the attendants were in tears by the end. Peter had his head buried in his lap, trying to hold back as many tears as he could, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
Peter turned and saw Harry staring back at him. "Hey man," was all that Harry had to say that pushed Peter over the edge to a full out bawl. He stood up and gave Harry a friendly embrace. Harry was a good friend, he knew what Peter was going through and didn't feel uncomfortable at all.  
"Don't worry Pete, it'll be alright. It's hard now, I know. I lost my mom a couple of years ago and I thought it was the end of the world. You just have to let it out, if you hold anything in it just increases the pain. If you ever need help, you know I'm here. Remember, I know exactly what it's like, so don't be afraid to come to me."  
Peter was grateful that he had Harry as a friend. Whenever Peter was stuck, Harry always helped him. If Peter was sick or hurt, Harry was one of the first people that came to make sure he was alright. Harry was able to look past the geeky intelligent that was on Peter's surface and see the person that was inside. He would selflessly do things for Peter, never requiring any payback. Harry was the best friend Peter had.  
The crowd died down and so did the day. Ben went up to pay his respects. He stayed for quite a while, but Peter understood. Ben left to the car to give Peter some privacy. Peter approached the coffin and looked down at the cold face of death.  
"I'm sorry Aunt May. I know that I should have tried to stop the robber. I didn't know that he would kill you. But I guess ignorance doesn't excuse my actions now does it? Ben always told me, 'With great power comes great responsibility', but I abused my power, and you felt the effect. Now Ben hates me and New York sees me as a pathetic loser who can't even go out of his way to stop a thief. I have to gain back Ben's respect, even if he doesn't know that it's me. Peter Parker might have failed you May, but Spider-Man won't. I'll do whatever I can to make sure that something like this doesn't happen again. I have power, and stopping criminals is now my responsibility." 


End file.
